


The Subjugator

by kwetwz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwetwz/pseuds/kwetwz
Summary: For someone who dreamt of galaxies and universes, being reborn into a world full of magic is a golden opportunity and the unattainable goal of godhood is not as impossible as before. For Magic is Might, not in the hands of pitiful Wizarding 'world' but for one with the determination to enslave stars and one who holds the knowledge of the future. (Dark/evil OC insert twin!fic)





	1. I

**September 1, 1991, Hogwarts Express...**

In a train compartment, two eleven year old siblings silently matched their wits in a game of chess.

At first glance, there seemed little in common between them aside from identical pairs of eerie green eyes. The boy had tangled black hair and a pair of old, battered glasses on top of his nose. He looked slightly malnourished and wore faded old clothes that seemed much too large on his thin frame. His twin sister, on the other hand, was in a much better state. Though also old-looking and worn, her clothes were in a relatively better state than her brother's. Her flaming red hair neatly hung from her shoulders. She had inherited her mother's excellent eyesight, which was evident by the lack of spectacles.

The girl did not seem to pay much attention to the game in front of them. In fact, she spent most of the time staring at some corner, apparently in deep thought. When it was her turn, she kept making supposedly random moves, much to her brother's irritation.

"I don't get it how you manage to do that every single time!" Harry whined as he saw his imminent defeat when the opposing pieces, seemingly at random locations turned towards his king in a coordinated attack. His sister Julia, also secretly a reincarnated soul, gave a small smirk. "I'm much more talented than you, I suppose."

Harry huffed, but relented. It was no secret to those who knew them that his sister was quite intelligent, almost frightfully so. Even the Dursleys had been forced to acknowledge that after comparing their report cards. Of course, being the 'normal, honest folk' that they were, praising freaks was nowhere near their to-do list. They had sourly declared her as a no-good bookworm and a nerd and considering their usual insults, it was quite high praise.

"Just how were you talking to those snakes at the zoo?" Her question interrupted Harry from his thoughts. He suppressed a sigh. Apparently he'd broken a dozen rules of biology and herpetology when he had opened his mouth in front of the Boa Constrictor. He had been forced to listen to her scientific rant in their cupboard about how serpents did not have eyelids to blink, or enough intelligence to make a meaningful conversation with a human, or how their hissing was actually just breathing, etc. etc.

"I told you many times, Julia, I really don't know. Maybe it was just magic." He replied, trying his best to conceal the frustrated tone. Personally, he thought that she was just annoyed that it was something he was able to do that she couldn't.

His twin stared at him with green eyes brimming with curiosity. "It would be worth an effort to attempt to decode the snake speech," She mused as she pulled out a 'Muggle' notebook and a pen alongside her black wand. "I read about this spell in a third-year textbook. It can basically summon some random snake in your nearby area in front you."

"Um, wouldn't that be stealing like someone else' pet snake?" Harry asked nervously.

"Probably." Julia shrugged indifferently and pointed her pitch-black wand at the empty chessboard in front of them. With a muttered incantation of "Serpensortia!", a large poison-green serpent appeared on top of the chessboard. The old second-hand chessboard quickly broke down under the considerable weight of the reptile and Harry was forced to calm down the enraged snake. Julia, for her part, merely watched the pair talking parseltongue and quickly began to write in her notebook.

After the snake was subdued, Julia finished her writing and turned towards her twin, excitement shining in her eyes. "This is very fascinating. Now, my dear brother, can you recite the alphabet and 0-9 numbers while looking at the snake?" She asked sweetly.

Harry sighed. This was going to be a looong trip...

* * *

"Six."

"HssSsSs."

"Seven."

"HsSsssSs."

The twin saviors of the wizarding world were interrupted from their herpetological session when the compartment door opened with a loud bang and a tall ginger-haired boy stepped in.

"Anyone el-" His words died in his throat when the summoned serpent hissed at the new arrival. "Um, er, I mean, can I sit here, I mean, everywhereelseisfull." The boy spoke too quickly in a frightened tone as the intimidating snake stared at him.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said distractedly. He tried to talk to the snake to calm it down again, but it unfortunately generated the complete opposite effect on the boy. He shrieked in fright and exclaimed, "You're a Parselmouth!"

"What's a Parselmouth?" Julia asked in feigned ignorance.

The shaken Weasley stepped inside the compartment. "Someone who can speak to snakes,"

He replied cautiously, a surprised look on his face as he observed the two of them, "It's associated with the Slytherin house. Their founder was one. Some say that You-Know-Who himself was the last known Parselmouth."

Harry frowned. "But then why am I a Parselmouth? How do you become one?"

"You don't. You have to be descended from one."

Julia ignored their useless prattle as she continued to scribble in her notebook. This was a calculated move on her part to scare away the stupid Weasley boy but the brat was more tenacious than she'd assumed previously. She would have preferred to flay the moron on sight, but alas, she could not have Dumbledore alerted at this stage.

She was probably the only being in this world who clearly remembered her past life in complete detail. In that particular incarnation, she, or rather he, had been a physics professor who had been forced to enter the crime world thanks to his useless brother. Under the benign facade of a kind teacher, he'd committed a few kidnappings, murders and robberies until some guy managed to shoot him in the face. His next memory after death was of being held tightly by someone and crying loudly.

At first, he was really annoyed at the sex change, though he had to accept it over time. Another of her observations was that his, err, her parents seemed like huge fans of HP, with her twin being named 'Harry Potter' of all things. That opinion had quickly changed when she witnessed them casually breaking the laws of reality with their short, pointy sticks. Which meant that she had somehow been reborn in a new universe where she had reality-bending superpowers. This gave the infant a new goal, to conquer everything and become God.

The Dursleys had provided plenty of time to study the nature of magic in the darkness of the cupboard. There was no such thing as a magic core, rather it was something akin to discarded energies of the astral dimension where the souls usually reside. A wizard's soul was significantly larger than a Muggle's, which meant more energy was being poured into the physical body. There was also some sort of link that tied a soul to the body which carried the immense psychic energies from the soul to the body. She was capable of improving this connection through meditations, and she had enhanced it until she could feel her soul itself sitting in the higher plane. It had boosted her magical capabilities as well as granted her the ability to see magic and souls to an extent.

As for increasing the size of the soul she had little success. After death, many insignificant souls just dissolved in astral energies until they became a tiny part of magic. Or, in the case of a human (some random classmate who suffered an 'accident') or some other intelligent creature (some of Marge's dogs and Figg's kneazles coincidentally died of heart attacks), their soul seemed to run away at light-speed to wherever dead souls go. So far, she had only managed to devour hundreds of souls of spiders, ants and bugs which felt like tiny drops of water in an ocean.

"But then why can't Julia speak to snakes?" Her brother's question brought her out of her thoughts.

"Julia? As in, Julia Potter, one of the twins-who-lived? But then you must be Harry Potter!" Glancing towards Harry's forehead with awe, he asked, "Have you really got the, you know,.."

Harry looked surprised at the change of subject, but nevertheless pulled his bang to show the famous lightning-bolt scar. The Horcrux inside it had never been fully healed and as a result it still looked raw and slightly swollen.

"So that's where You-Know-Who's wand fell..."

Ah, another change in the timeline due to her existence. Apparently Dumbledore had declared both of them as twins-who-lived and had explained the presence of the curiously shaped scar as an injury by Voldemort's accursed wand. After all, killing curses don't leave any mark, do they?

Why had he done such a thing Julia had little idea, for the prophecy clearly spoke of a boy and even now she could feel the tiny soul fragment writhing within the cursed scar. She supposed she could try to consume it, but that would put both Harry and her at a terrible risk for she did not know the full extent of Voldemort's mental abilities. And while Harry's death meant little to her, he was also the person destined to defeat the self-styled Dark Lord who could become a major obstacle in her quest for apotheosis which meant she was forced to keep him alive until he finished his job.

"Yes, but I don't really remember anything."

"Nothing?" the redheaded boy said eagerly, looking at both of them.

"I remember some green light and a scary laugh, but that's all." She said. It wasn't as if Julia would tell anyone that she could recall that Halloween perfectly due to being an adult in an infant's body.

"Wow," Weasley said as he stared at her in amazement.

"So, what's your name?" Harry asked the other boy.

"Oh," The boy's ears turned reddish when he realized he hadn't introduced himself at all. "I'm, um, Ron Weasley. You saw my family outside the platform." His face began to show a faint blush as he looked at Julia which she pretended to ignore.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er - Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." So even the so-called light families ignored their squib relatives. How interesting.

"So you must know loads of magic already."

Actually the boy was a lazy treacherous simpleton with a spark of talent in strategy, but he fit into Julia's plans as an excellent inhibitor to slow down Harry's progress in studies. As for Hermione's role, she had decided to take it for herself. There was no need for that annoying bossy girl whose only ability was rote memorization.

"I heard you two went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

Their answer was interrupted when the trolley woman (trolley witch, her brain corrected) arrived carrying different types of wizarding delicacies. After Harry brought nearly half the trolley, they spent the next thirty minutes feasting upon exotic magical foods that they had never tasted before.

* * *

"Sorry," a pitiful voice fell upon their ears, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

A boy shyly peeked his head inside their compartment. All three of them shook their heads in response.

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

"Try to ask a prefect or some other older student. They might know how to summon it." Julia interrupted. Now, hopefully, she wouldn't have to confront her least favorite HP character.

"Uh, thanks," the boy replied awkwardly and left. Harry glanced at his sister quizzically. She did not usually offer advice to random people as far as he remembered.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

He appeared as if he wanted to remove his pet rat for his pocket, but then he remembered that there was a big snake in the compartment. The reptile had fallen asleep after eating a few chocolate frogs and was now snoozing over Julia's trunk. Taking the cue, Julia grabbed the serpent by its tail and threw it out of the window.

Nodding at her, Ron removed a sleeping rat from his pocket. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He pulled out a very old battered wand out of his trunk. "Charlie's old wand. The unicorn hair is nearly poking out. Anyway..."

Just then, a series of high-pitched girlish shrieks erupted across the train carriage as the sound of something zooming across the train was heard. Harry immediately opened the door only to come face to face to a large toad merrily floating towards the other end of the carriage. He quickly closed the door in shock.

"What the heck was that?" He exclaimed.

"Probably that missing toad, must have been summoned," Julia answered nonchalantly.

Opting to stay out of the rest of the conversation, Julia decided to spend her time in deciphering Parseltongue. While it was good to know that she wouldn't have to face the hated bookworm until Hogwarts, there was still Malfoy to contend with. While she could turn him into a loyal minion and use his wealth and connections, it also meant alerting his parents, Dumbledore, and maybe even Quirrell-Voldemort.

Malfoy and his band of goons arrived when Ron and Harry were discussing the wizarding sport Quidditch.

"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry and Julia Potter are in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?" Malfoy asked in a snotty voice. His muscular goons, whose names Julia had forgotten long ago, towered behind him like a pair of bodyguards. They looked exceptionally dumb and stone-faced by human standards, as if they were a pair of automatons (Or gargoyles, by wizarding terminology).

Julia nodded. "That would be us. And who might you be?"

"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." After looking at Harry who was staring at his guards, "Oh, and this is Crabbe and Goyle."

Weasley sniggered at his name, and the scene more or less played out similar enough, resulting in Goyle getting bitten by Pettigrew and the future Slytherins scampering away. It was probably the only helpful thing the rat had ever done in his pathetic existence.

All this fighting, however, did attract a certain creature whom Julia desperately wanted to avoid.

"What has been going on?" she demanded as she appeared in her full glory of beaver teeth and frizzy hair. She also happened to bring a thick book that Julia recognized as 'Hogwarts, a History'.

Ronald glared at the unwanted interruption. "None of your business," he muttered, still angry because of Malfoy's insults to his family.

"How rude!" The girl sniffed. "You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there! Anyway, you'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there."

Julia resisted her urge to throttle the maggot in a Darth Vader-esque fashion. This stupid girl had already begun to order them around. At first, she'd decided to let the bitch be killed by the troll, but now her death would be much earlier, preferably tortured in the Chamber of Secrets.

* * *

The Sorting Hat had seen occluded minds only a handful of times in the thousand years of its existence. It was not as if eleven year old couldn't learn Occlumency, but they usually lacked the intense concentration as well as the necessary magical stamina which was the reason why its creators hadn't bothered to enchant it to bypass Occlumency barriers. There was also the fact that overwhelming Occlumency barriers with extra magic usually left the victim in a comatose state.

Those who could learn the difficult art in their tweens, however, usually became the greatest wizards or witches of their generation. Some examples include Ekrizdis, Dark Lord of Azkaban, creator of Dementors and Albus Dumbledore, who had delved in mind magics as an attempt to heal his obscurial sister.

So it was a pleasant surprise for the Sorting Hat to see another well-fortified mind after a century. The mindscape was shaped like a huge, towering building painted gold and black that seemed to reach the bizarre multicolored sky, surrounded entirely by a desert.

The Occlumens had decorated the sky wonderfully, with multitudes of images of colorful planets, dazzling stars, nebulae and swirling galaxies. If it hadn't been on top of some Muggleborn students' head, the Hat could never recognize those colorful shapes.

"A most impressive display of mental discipline, Ms. Potter," the Hat said calmly as its representation in the form of its favorite creator, Godric Gryffindor, stepped inside the foreign mind. "But I'm afraid you must drop these Occlumency shield to let me sort you into your house."

~So you can indeed be overcome by Occlumency.~ The winds whispered as the mind relayed its thoughts to the ancient artifact. ~But can you not just sort me into a house that I desire?~

"I must test your character before I sort you, as the founders have ordered me explicitly." The Hat replied.

~Then will you deign to answer a few questions of mine in return?~

"As long as it doesn't tread on anyone's privacy, I can't see why not."

In response, the surroundings shifted in a blur of colors. The Hat now stood in a long, rectangular dimly-lit room, surrounded by various dangerous-looking figures. However, the Hat could feel that the central person sitting on a throne was the representation of the student's mind.

"Will everything you see stay private between the two of us?" The figure asked. Now that the Hat could see her better, all he could see were two gleaming emerald eyes beneath a hood and the rest utterly hidden by a black cloak.

"Of course! No even the headmaster himself can pry into my secrets!" the Hat answered indignantly.

"Very good. Now tell me, are you a Horcrux?"

"A Hor...crux? Isn't that supposed to be one of the darkest artifacts?" It asked confusedly. No eleven-year old had read more than a passing reference to Horcruxes, and its creators themselves were unaware of such an artifact.

"You display far too much intelligence to be a simple enchanted object, and the only inanimate things similar enough were all Horcruxes." Julia muttered.

"I cannot comment, for I have no idea what this 'Horcrux' of yours is supposed to be. Nevertheless, do not forget that my creators were the greatest wizards and witches of their time, and received help from the Prince of Enchanters in my creation." The hat replied in its form of Godric Gryffindor.

"How fascinating. Anyway, let me show you my memories." She said, and showed a few memories depicting her as brave and compassionate.

Unfortunately the Sorting Hat sensed her other memories during the brief interval. "Who are you? Your memories are too vast to be of a common 11-year old." The Hat asked, a rather menacing tone entering in its voice, to deal with the supposed impostor.

"A reincarnation. Surely you noticed that my speech is rather complex for an eleven-year old?" She replied evenly as she unlocked her memories of past life and granted the Hat access up till the point of her entry in the criminal world and also removing all references to HP books, films, etc.

The hat began to sift through her memories. "Hmm, yes. You are certainly an interesting person, Julia Potter. I have seen a handful of your kind before. Now then, I see an excellent mind, and such a thirst to prove yourself, maybe Ravenclaw or Slytherin would suit you most." It muttered as it reviewed twenty-five years' worth of memories. It didn't even bother asking about the rest of her memories.

"I'd prefer if you sorted me alongside my brother into Gryffindor." Julia commented. While Ravenclaw sounded nice, it also was full of unknowns she didn't want to deal with while Slytherin meant falling under Dumbledore's scrutiny.

"While you show a few qualities required for that house, Ravenclaw would be far better for you to achieve your full potential."

"No, Gryffindor is what expected from me."

"Are you sure? Both of them can help you become great, you know. I am obliged to take your wish under consideration, though I can see that Gryffindor would be too dull for someone as clever as you." The Hat said, but Julia had already made up her mind.

"Again, I must go into Gryffindor." She said as the mindscape behind her changed to show a Gryffindor crest.

"Very well, if that is your wish." The Hat sighed. This one was just like her twin. Dissolving the mental connection, the Hat retreated back to its physical body and yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!"


	2. II

A snarl echoed through the Room of Requirement as Julia slammed the large book regarding wizarding laws and customs. Beside her, a certain rat squeaked in fear as it frantically tried to move from its unnaturally stiff position. Not bothering to look at the petrified rat, Julia sent a curse in its direction. Pettigrew whimpered as he felt a thousand phantom needles skewering him.

The reason for her current bout of anger was Sirius Black. Perhaps her view towards this universe had permanently changed due to fanfiction, but she had honestly believed that all the ancient and noble families held a seat on the Wizengamot. To her shock, the book had revealed that most the Wizengamot seats were filled by magical lawyers (after all, it was a court, not a parliament) and the rest were filled by senior members of the Ministry of Magic chosen by the Minister. And the second and much less surprising fact was that there were no wizarding lordships. It made sense, for a community barely exceeding three thousand and controlling but a fraction of Great Britain had no need of nobility. Those who claimed to be 'lords' were either extremely rich (Malfoy) or overwhelmingly powerful (Riddle). These people were the ones to control (or to terrorize, alternatively) the magical 'world'.

Which also meant that all her plans regarding Sirius Black had gone down the drain.

One of her initial plans to rule over the Ministry was by joining the Wizengamot and becoming Chief Warlock. Now, she was certainly no lawyer and it would take too much time to climb the ranks of the Ministry. So that only left the family headship, a title which was unfortunately only for males and currently held by some Volans Black living in Australia (according to the book, which had not been updated since 1954). Since she didn't remember any Black of such a name, it was safe to assume that Sirius Black was nowhere close to inheriting the position. And considering wealth, the Potter and Black families were nowhere near rich enough to hold sway over the decisions of the ministry like those blond idiots.

Which left the question: Why to rescue Sirius Black in the first place?

She had known the man for fourteen months, and did not feel even a shred of affection towards the arrogant, childish prankster. Not that she cared for anyone in the first place, except for her twin (But that was acceptable since spending ten years in a cupboard together does develop some form of affection). Sirius Black would hardly make a loyal servant, rather he'd try to become a parental figure. Now that she realized, Black would be more of a headache if he managed to escape. Which also meant that Scabbers had outlived its usefulness.

Smiling, she turned at the rat trapped in an unbreakable cage, ready to commit her first murder of a superhuman. She had stolen Scabbers a few days ago and left a replacement. The Weasley, being the thick-headed swine he ever was, hadn't even noticed the difference and still carried a filthy rat in his pocket. All the while, Julia had gleefully used Scabbers for 'spell practice'.

Naturally, the first 'spell' she used happened to be a castration curse. It had seemed fitting, after all, to ensure that filths such as him should not reproduce and taint humanity and even rodents with its foul spawn. She had also tried Snape's creation, Sectumsempra, to cut its tail as well as a hair loss curse, which did not work since it was supposed to be used only on humans. Even the Unforgivables (except Avada Kedavra, obviously) were used upon him, and Julia was pleased to see that they were of moderate strength. In short, she had granted Pettigrew the noble profession of her own punching, um, cursing bag.

"Say goodbye, rodent," She said with a cruel smile, "Evanesco! Homorphus!"

There was a certain thrill in watching a person die, and killing Pettigrew in his animagus form would be boring and just pathetic compared to that. She had done her best to ensure that there was no risk in him escaping by specifically asking for a room to contain the rat animagus as well as asking the room not to heed any wishes from him. The room was nearly empty except the replica of Hogwarts library (both sections) at the back of the room. A quick vanishing charm removed the cage around the petrified rat, and a modified transfiguration charm returned him to its human state. It also sadly broke the body-bind curse upon the rat and he began to jump at her in his strange Rat-man hybrid stage. Julia merely grabbed him with a telekinetic fist and watched in morbid fascination as the transfiguration completed and a short, plump, rat-like man with watery eyes hung limply in front of her. She threw him sideways with enough force to knock his teeth out.

She slowly approached him as he spat out a few bloody teeth. "H-How?" He whimpered pitifully, his voice barely audible due to the lack of usage for the last decade.

(And suddenly, she had the urge to say, "I hath Telekinesis!" on his face with a 'dude-ur-so-retarded' look)

But she didn't, of course. That would be undignified and ridiculous. Instead, she marched slowly at him, with her wand pointed at him.

"Avada Kedavra!" Was her only answer. The beautiful green jet shot towards Pettigrew, only to miss narrowly as he managed to roll away.

"No! No! Please don't kill me! I'll do anything!" The coward began to sob and beg for his pathetic life.

"The only thing you can do is to die, worm." She replied calmly even as the room bent to her whims and several thick chains appeared around the battered body of Peter.

"Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you, Julia? I was your parents' best friend! They wouldn't want you to kill me!"

"Are you now? I'm...glad to hear that. So will you care to explain why you spent the last ten years as a pet, instead of living as a regular person?" Julia asked indifferently, deciding to humor the lying (and dying) man.

"I-I was hiding from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers! They-"

"You're far from a skilled liar, Pettigrew. Crucio!" She hissed. This time, bound by chains as he was, Peter was unable to avoid the pain curse and it hit him on his chest. Julia watched in sadistic delight as he writhed in excruciating pain. After a minute or two, he abruptly stopped flailing around and fell unconscious. Julia frowned in displeasure.

"Hmm... it seems my Cruciatus is still not strong enough..." She muttered. "No matter, a simple cutting curse should suffice... Lacero!"

Pettigrew's head was separated from the rest of the body by an invisible meat cleaver. "Oops, I didn't mean for that to happen." Julia said, wondering why this dark curse had been tremendously more powerful than expected. She had merely wanted to make a sharp cut on his neck, and now he had been beheaded! And what a shame, too. She still had several curses to try out.

Just then, she felt a significant 'impact' upon her soul. Being extremely attuned to her soul and the higher plane of magic/astral energies, Julia was able to 'feel' her soul and the surrounding dimension. In this particular room, however, she had to block it because of the excessive magic placed by the founders that became extremely bright within the higher plane.

Concentrating, she began to feel her soul within the immaterium and was surprised to see almost a 'wound' or a 'tear' on its surface. She wondered why it had appeared there, and received her answer at once as the last few moments of Pettigrew's life were played in front of her in the astral realm.

Pettigrew obviously possessed the desire to live, and when she had abruptly ended his life without his consent, his soul had sought revenge and it had attacked her own soul in retaliation. All the previous creatures she had slain possessed much tinier souls and had done no real harm to her. Not that this one did any, and her magical abilities were still not diminished in slightest, but still it was a matter of significant concern. What would happen to her soul if she killed, say, fifty wizards at once?

The only real solution was to increase her soul size so much till she could consume even Muggle and other mammal souls. But that goal was still far away, like thousands of insects and rodents beyond her reach.

* * *

Julia was in a sombre mood when she left the Room of Requirement to rejoin the Gryffindors for their breakfast in the great hall. It was Snape's first lecture on that day, which also meant their first common lesson with Slytherins. While Julia didn't really want to hate Snape, since he was a former Death Eater reduced to terrorizing eleven year olds, he had also been trying to read her mind from the first day. And as skilled as she was, Snape was still one of the greatest (British) Legilimens after Dumbles and Voldy and it was quite draining to face all three and keep deflecting their subtle probes.

Thus her mood had shifted from solemn to slightly irritated when she entered the gloomy dungeons hosting the potions lectures. As Snape entered in all his gothic glory, with his greasy hair and coal black robes fluttering theatrically behind, Julia extended her magical senses towards the robe and found that it was indeed held by some spell. Julia began to dispel it just to get some amusement.

The spell broke when an unsuspecting Snape was reaching the blackboard. The robe got tangled in his legs and Snape collided with the blackboard nose-first (He may or may not be motivated by some telekinesis from Julia). The Gryffindor side of the class erupted in laughter, as it contained many Muggleborns who didn't know about the professor at all. On the other hand, there were a few weak chuckles on the green-clad side, but overall the house of snooty purebloods remained stoic.

"Silence!" Snape hissed loudly and wiped off the blood from his nose, followed by cleaning the board and healing his injured nose with two silent spells. Then he glared hatefully at the students, (mainly the Gryffindors) and Julia did not fail to notice that his baleful gaze remained on Harry much longer than anyone else. If she had to take a guess, the bastard was probably cursing all the Potters in his head right now. Still, it had done the job, and most students had become silent and even a bit fearful.

Snape then started the class by taking the roll call, and as expected, paused after Harry's and Julia's names.

"Yes, yes," He said hatefully, "Harry and Julia ... Potter. Let us welcome our new celebrities." However, some hesitation entered in his voice when he looked at Julia. The Slytherins sniggered sycophantically.

After finishing the roll call, he began his 'Introduction to Potions' speech, and Julia couldn't help but think that it was more barbed and threatening than it was originally intended to be.

"Mr. Potter!" He barked suddenly. "What are the ingredients required for the Awakening potion?" He asked.

So, he had decided to ask harder questions in his anger. Still, the answer was given in the textbook and was actually quite easy to memorize for anyone. But unlike her, poor Harry didn't have the advantage of Occlumency nor had he ever read the potions book seriously.

"I don't know, sir." He replied.

Snape sneered. "Thought you wouldn't need to open a book before coming, Potter?" To his credit, Harry kept his gaze locked with Snape's cold eyes. "Give me a simple use of the Wiggenweld potion."

"I don't know, sir." Harry answered, his voice noticeable lowered by humiliation. The Slytherins silently shook in laughter, while a certain annoyance waved her hand like a flagpole. Julia, however, remained calm and indifferent.

"Tut, tut - Fame will not help you overcome your lack of intelligence, Potter. Let us try an even more basic question." Snape leaned forward, his greasy hair casting shadows over his face making him look even more menacing, "Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

"I don't know sir." Harry muttered meekly, his eyes turned downcast.

"Do you even know what a bezoar is supposed to be?" Snape asked, looking very much delighted to humiliate his old rival's son.

This, however, Harry did remember. At least, he thought he did. "Um, the bezoar is ... a stone that can cure any disease?"

A few Slytherins erupted in full-grown laughter. Notable among them were of course, Malfoy and his pet automata. Julia almost felt embarrassed to have him as her twin, because that particular bit of information was on the third page of the book.

"Five points from Gryffindor for such a wonderful display of brilliance, Potter." Snape said sarcastically. "For your information, snake fangs, Billywig stings and Wolfsbane combined with the common ingredient is enough to make a simple Awakening potion, also known as Wide-eye potion by some. Similar in property, the Wiggenweld potion is used to awaken someone from magically induced sleep and minor healing. And, lastly, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and capable of saving you from most poisons." The Gryffindors stared blankly. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

* * *

Perhaps it was a mistake to mortify Snape in his first lecture, Julia reflected as she left the classroom alongside Harry. Snape had been much harsher than canon and took twenty points and three detentions in his first class. On the plus side, half of them were lost by Granger because of some argument.

As for Weasley, her being paired with Harry meant that Ron was with Neville, and the idiotic pair proved to be a disaster for the potions class. Their potion exploded upon Neville's face resulting in severe burns and boils. Much to Julia's delight, some of it fell upon Granger's hair and notes, both of which burnt nicely.

"Why did he hate me so much?" Harry mumbled as they went to Gryffindor tower.

"Don't worry, mate," Ron placated, "Snape hates all Gryffindors. How do you think those slimy snakes have been winning the house cup for the last six years?"

Julia, on the other hand, gave some random theory generated by her distracted mind. "He seemed to hate us a lot because of our fame. Maybe he's a talented researcher who wants to be popular and got jealous because we got more famous since we were one." She said.

"But he didn't ask you anything." Harry said, while Ron looked at her strangely. Julia merely gave a quizzical shrug.

As they reached the Fat Lady's portrait, several muffled squeaks were heard from Ron's robes. Much to the onlookers' disgust, he drew a large rat at held it by neck as it tried its best to bite him.

The rat served as a reminder to Julia of her morning when she had killed Wormtail. She glimpsed at her soul and felt that the tiny wound was still there, though reduced considerably.

The only solution she could think of preventing such wounds was to use only killing curses which was precisely what Voldemort did. But even then, he had committed his first murder with a Basilisk, which he used to create the diary Horcrux.

Wait...

Was this how a Horcrux was created? By using the small tear in the soul? Riddle had created his first after asking Slughorn, but regrettably Julia did not remember their discussion from book six. It didn't really matter, for the Room of Requirement would be there to serve her anyway.

* * *

Sometime after midnight, a shadow stepped out of the Gryffindor tower.

It did not make even the faintest sound, and the dim moonlight seemed to bend unnaturally around it. If anyone were to look at it, they could have not bring themselves to watch it for more than a fraction of a second.

The shadow glided smoothly towards its intended destination. When a loud meow echoed through the corridors, it froze at once.

Julia cursed silently as she was once again confronted by the infernal feline. Even with her generous use of disillusion, soundproof and Notice-me-not charms, the blasted cat always managed to find her when she was visiting the Room of Requirement.

As the cat leapt unerringly towards her nearly invisible body, Julia grabbed it by it neck and pinched at a certain spot and watched as the cat immediately froze. Well, who have thought that learning cat deactivation would come handy after death?

Transfiguring a nearby candle into a wax clip, she put it on the cat's neck and continued on to her destination. The transfiguration was hardly permanent but hopefully capable of keeping the feline calm for a couple of hours, by which time her work would be over.

As she began to read books on Horcruxes in the room, mostly taken from a replica of Dumbledore's private collection, Julia couldn't help but scoff at their disgusting method of creation. Herpo the Foul, the first to create them, had just killed hundreds with his Basilisk and then ripped his soul into two parts. Theoretically, it should have been more than ten by the impact of so many deaths, and Herpo the Fool probably managed to save only two of them. Which also explained his heightened madness and diminished power during his latter years. Decades after his body failed, an adventurer had found the foul artefact as well as Herpo's notes and managed to trick his Basilisk into eating it. Other dark wizards, too, had fallen into similar traps and were turned into homicidal psychopathic maniacs.

There was, of course, no fixed incantation to rip a soul apart. Incantations mattered little, overall, for they were just there to give the wizard some measure of confidence. Instead the books told of having exceptional willpower as well as mastery over your mind (i.e. Occlumency) was enough.

In the end, after reading up to three a.m., Julia determined that the smaller the wound, the lesser the chance of insanity and other side effects in Horcrux creation. Also keeping the Horcrux closer had seemed to improve such conditions for some wizards. Still, there was so much to learn about the topic that could not be learnt in a single night and she decided to postpone it by a week. As for murders, well Granger was always an option, and it was a good idea to eliminate the crazy seer so Dumbledore wouldn't accidentally glimpse her future plans.

* * *

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say UP!" Madam Hooch yelled. Julia mentally sighed, this was a lesson she certainly had not been looking forward to. Flying on brooms - really, it was so primitive and stereotypical, couldn't these morons use charmed motorcycles to fly, like Black and Hagrid? Not to mention how unsafe it was. She still hadn't created her Horcrux which meant she was still able to die in this class.

Suppressing a wince at that line of thought, she muttered "Up!" without any real enthusiasm. As expected, the broom merely twitched in front of her. A handful had managed to summon their brooms, but that was equally pointless. Why couldn't they all just pick it from their brooms from the floor?

The next part involved the proper technique to mount brooms and the instructor walked among them to correct their grips. Harry and Ron were grinning for some reason, but she had no interest in that. Her focus had shifted towards an entirely untouched subject - unaided flight.

She hadn't really given it any thought before, for by the time she was six she could pluck out crows and eagles flying high and hadn't seen any necessity to it. But Voldemort was capable of it, and it was a bad idea to let an enemy have an advantage over her. Maybe she could just make herself fly with telekinesis, but that would require superhuman focus not attained even by Occlumency.

The sight of Longbottom's fat bottom soaring above broke her from her thoughts. "Come back, boy!" Hooch shouted, though it was of no use. Julia had no thought of intervening, for the boy was sufficiently pathetic without her help. Neville Longbottom, the walking (and currently flying) disaster of Hogwarts soared about ten meters up only to slip sideways and come crashing down.

"Broken wrist. Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get." Hooch murmured sympathetically and then turned to the rest of the class. "None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'! Come on, dear."

No sooner had they left than the Slytherins and Gryffindors began to squabble, which resulted in Malfoy taking Longbottom's Remembrall.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about - up a tree?" He smirked nastily, or, well, as nastily as an eleven year old could. "Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. It was then Julia decided to intervene.

From her brief scan, the Remembrall was an interesting object that somehow employed something that wasn't quite legilimency and searched through memories. Julia herself had little skill in mind reading, and she had ordered another Remembrall from Diagon Alley a few days ago. So she did not really care what happened to Neville's device.

There was also the fact that she hated Quidditch (Soccer and Hockey were way better) and did not care if Gryffindor lost because they didn't have Harry Potter as their Seeker.

With a snap of her fingers, the old, worn out school broomstick broke into two pieces and Draco hit the ground with a large thud. By the awkward angle he had made, both of his legs alongside his left arm seemed broken.

Well, at least he wasn't dead. That would have caused a lot of headache and Julia didn't really want to create Horcruxes by killing spoilt little brats.


	3. III

In retrospect, Julia should've remembered just how advanced wizarding medicine was. Though he still wore Muggle plasters and bandages for show, Draco Malfoy did not suffer from any permanent injury. His broken bones were healed by Poppy Pomfrey with three healing charms and the rest of cuts and bruises too had disappeared with salves and healing potions. Like he did - er, would have done in the third year, Malfoy still pretended to be suffering from injuries presumably to remove the ancient Hooch from the staff.

It had been twenty years since she'd touched any Harry Potter book, and this served as a warning of her lack of knowledge. Still, it was nothing particularly serious, and she decided to focus on her current task: ensuring her own immortality.

After thoroughly studying the forbidden subject, Julia determined that a diamond ring, made of or coated with Platinum would serve as the best container for her soul fragment. Diamond, for it was the hardest substance known to mankind which would become nigh-imperishable after the soul shard's protection, and platinum, due to its extremely low chemical reactivity. It wouldn't be enough against Basilisk venom or Phoenix tears, but then nothing could last against them anyway. Horcruxes were also noted to be powerful magical foci which was why Julia chose a ring, which would serve as a second wand with no one suspecting anything.

Now, even though it was it was 1991 and there was a complete lack of CCTVs she couldn't just go and steal such a ring due to underage magic tracking from the Ministry of Magic. The best solution was to get a house-elf, whose magic was impossible to track for the Ministry.

So she decided to visit the elf-operated kitchens. It was the first time she was seeing an elf in real life and she was quite surprised by the physical similarities between the goblins and the house-elves. A house-elf could be considered as a defanged, declawed and submissive goblin, albeit with a longer nose and huge, bulbous eyes unlike the tiny eyes of the goblins. Somehow, she had a feeling that the martial race would be far from amused by that comparison.

The elves had a crazed, fanatical look in their bulbous eyes, and had tried to feed every single food item to their heroic savior, Julia. She really wanted to know just what had Voldemort done to them to earn the ire of an entire race but that could be found later. Thankfully, it was easy to convince them to stop feeding her with a few compliments.

It turned out that free elves became weaker as long as they remained free, and thus there were no free elves in Britain. The elves were kind enough to direct her to a house-elf market, where she bought two house-elves called Corby (male) and Jeeny (female) for the cheap price of 300 Galleons. One would've sufficed, but she was amused by the elf's name which resembled Ginny Weasley and ended up buying it as well and if anyone asked later, she could always answer that the other one was for her twin.

The first task she gave them was to steal the aforementioned ring from a prominent jewellery store, which the elves accomplished rather badly. Incidentally, quite a few guards saw freakish extraterrestrials stealing valuables from their store. Each and every one of them had been sent to the jail the next day.

"Now, tell me, what the hell am I going to do with so much jewelry?" Julia raged at her incompetent minions. In front of her were at least fifty to seventy rings of varying size, shape and even metals, despite her explicit orders. She even spotted a few diamond and / or platinum necklaces and wristbands as well. It looked as if the dumb elves had grabbed everything in that damn store containing the words 'diamond' and 'platinum'.

"Mistress be telling us to get platinum and diamond ring, but there be being too many so we's be getting all platinum and diamond ring for the mistress." An elf squeaked fearfully in that horribly butchered English of theirs. Judging by its flat chest, it was probably Corby, the (slightly) less timid elf.

The rodent-like squeaky voice and butchered English grated on Julia's ears. She swore to herself that one day she would turn these creatures into intelligent cyborgs capable of following orders and more importantly, speaking proper English.

Elves aside, Julia was forced to order a bottomless mokeskin pouch from Diagon Alley to store so much jewellery newly dumped on her. It cost a whopping 450 Galleons to get the rare pouch but it was worth it, as only she could open it herself and it could hold theoretically infinite number of objects while still remaining light as a feather.

* * *

While some second-year called Cormac McLaggen flaunted his newly appointed position of Gryffindor seeker, Julia had been trying to a secure way to kill Hermione Granger (and Trelawny too, when she was at it). Her first attempt by using Potassium Cyanide did not work as the 'innate' magic of a wizard or a witch was capable of removing all sorts of non-magical toxins. Another idea of turning soul-drained spiders into KCN pills by transfiguration failed as they reverted back to dead spiders when Granger put them in her mouth. Well, at least it was a great prank and her horrified screams had been most entertaining.

The girl had been completely abandoned by her classmates and now spent producing waterworks in bathrooms, especially after the spider incident. It was impossible to kill her in that place, since the founders or maybe the later headmasters had practically saturated all the girls bathrooms with so many protective wards that it hurt her (astral) eyes to look at them.

Thus deception was the key. Granger had to be brought out from her fortress bathroom in order to slay. And what reason could bring her out? The answer was very simple, and it took Julia half a second to prepare a suitable reason.

"Granger!" She shouted, standing outside the place where said girl was manufacturing saltwater.

"Potter. Go away." Was the only response she got from her. Well, that was not unexpected. Granger had been jealous of her since the first day mostly because of her superior grades that Granger was unable to surpass. Julia used a fraction of her abilities in classes, and still got first rank without doing anything much. To be fair, she was a thirty-year old stuck inside a child's body and had the advantage of Occlumency which granted almost photographic memory to its users. The other girl, however, was just a little brat with good memory and arrogance comparable to purebloods.

"It's not like I want to watch you moping around the bathroom, Granger. Professor McGonagall has been asking for you - something about your last essay, I think." Julia replied disdainfully.

The girl immediately rubbed her eyes, cleaned her face and began to run outside. When she was completely out of the protective wards, Julia simply cast a silent body-bind curse. Granger, who was certainly not expecting being attacked, didn't even have time to scream or to say anything as she fell on the floor, only capable of moving her eyes.

Julia took out her wand and began to transfigure her body. Transfiguration was not one of her stronger subjects, that honour belonged to charms and astronomy. She had little practice of transfiguring as it took too much energy to change the composition, shape, size and mass of a particular object that it was infinitely more preferable to perform it with a wand.

Still, her crude transfiguration was sufficient to reduce Granger into a small doll. It did have some tangled hair and large teeth jutting out, but that was irrelevant. She reapplied all the concealment charms she knew on her and the pseudo-doll and went to the third floor corridor, where a simple door barred her path. With a roll of her eyes, Julia imagined the door opening, not bothering to say 'Alamora' or something..

The Cerberus was indeed a nightmare-inducing sight for the faint-hearted. It was gargantuan, matching the height of a full grown man at around two meters, and three paired of eyes crazed with bloodlust which began to focus on her general location due to its powerful sense of smell. Monstrous jaws easily capable of tearing a head off shoulders snapped at her, each having sharpened teeth the size of a human palm. Overall, it was indeed a magnificent beast, and Julia could not honestly say that she did not feel any fear in the presence of the superior predator. Her hands shook slightly as she undid the transfiguration and hurled a dazed Granger headfirst into the central mouth. Then she stayed for a while to watch the three heads fighting amongst themselves over parts of Granger's body but retreated shortly, fearing that she would be discovered by some professor.

Only after returning she noticed that she had forgotten to check for detective wards on the door.

* * *

The soul wound created by Granger's death was much larger that Pettigrew's and Julia was forced to wait for two days to let it heal partially. She had now a multitude of diamond platinum rings to select from, and in the end she ended up choosing a simple ring without any flashy decoration or anything with a transparent diamond. As platinum was a dull-looking metal compared to gold and silver, the ring would hopefully not attract much attention and remain safe. The ring was far too big for her small fingers but she was positive that the soul fragment could alter its size.

Julia suppressed all unnecessary thoughts as she began to meditate and concentrate to 'see' the astral realm (feel would be the more accurate term). She saw the representation of her soul, a gray-black humanoid figure radiating blackish mist in its surrounding. She knew that if she tried, she could temporarily separate her consciousness from the body and explore the physical world to the fullest extend, but did not try such a thing since the entities within the immaterium had not seemed too happy about her diet of souls the last time she attempted astral projection.

Concentrating harder, she saw the wound on the left hand caused by Granger's death. If it had been physical, it would've barely amounted as a tiny cut, but here in the immaterial it held immense value to her.

With a mental command from her, a tiny part on the wound began to separate from the rest of the soul. Pain began to flood in her body as it moved further towards its designation. A part of her wondered how a being of energy could feel such immense pain, while rest was too busy trying to maintain the soul shard under terrible agony. As it reached further away the pain seemed to increase tenfold till Julia felt she couldn't take it anymore.

When the part seemed to reach where the ring was in the physical world, the pain ceased at once. It then somehow anchored itself to ring, much like the the link between body and soul. Except here, it seemed that the soul shard itself was the link. When it finished attaching itself on the ring, Julia cautiously opened her eyes to see her first Horcrux.

The ring looked perfectly ordinary, though Julia felt as if it were her own body part. With a simple thought, the ring stood up and began to roll towards her on its own. Then it jumped into her finger and began to resize itself at her whims.

The books did mention something like that. A newly created Horcrux felt just like another organ but developed an independent (though identical) personality of itself over time and by being separated from the original soul. Incidentally, such a Horcrux was also entirely worthless to retain immortality since it did not truly host a soul shard as of yet.

As for the secret location of the proto-Horcrux, Julia decided after much debate that either the Potter trust vault or Iceland were the best choices. Iceland had to be cancelled because even the house-elves did not possess an apparition range of a thousand kilometers. Only portkeys would work over such large distances which Julia didn't have the faintest idea about. Fortunately, even goblins had not come up with anti-house elf apparition wards, and she successfully deposited her ring in the vault after an awkward arrival on top of the pile of Galleons.

* * *

Events in the school did not stop for Julia. She was freaked out to see 'Hermione Granger' return just a day after getting devoured, but thankfully a closer inspection with soul-sight revealed that it was actually a different witch/wizard pretending to be her. After a few days, Dumbles announced that Hermione Granger had somehow chosen to return to the Muggle world and her request had been granted since. He also implored other Muggleborns not to follow her, saying that her choice was in bad faith and the rest should remain in the magical world and learn arcane knowledge to explore their limits at fullest.

"Good riddance." Ron said delightedly, spitting some porridge on the table as owls flew overhead. Two owls, one white and other grayish black, landed on their table and promptly began to gobble up some food offered by their owners. Supposed to be a birthday gift from the half-giant, Julia had received some annoying gray owl which she named Andros, after some ancient Greek wizard. It also liked eating directly from her plate which, however disgusting, seemed to be the standard behaviour of magical owls. Apparently, wizards were completely unaffected by mundane diseases such as bird flu.

Julia suppressed her disdain at both the owl and Weasley and gave him a smile. Yes, indeed it was a relief not to see that screeching banshee anymore. Although it was alarming to see Dumbledore covering up her death to protect that precious stone of Flamels.

Classes remained as dull as ever. Snape seemed to have focused his entire hatred on Harry, who barely got D's and T's while Julia kept getting E's and even the occasional O's. Her physical similarity to Lily Potter was the obvious reason for this. Charms, again, too boring as she was practicing fourth year material in the RoR at night. Transfiguration, while not a subject she excelled in, was still simple enough to progress to year two book. As for herbology, she was adequate but nowhere near Longbottom and even Harry, who had to do most of the gardening at the Dursleys. While she hadn't been an astrophysicist she knew astronomy well enough to get consistent E's in the class. Quirrell, who was supposedly the best DADA teacher in the last five years, had barely managed to teach "L-L-Lumos!" and "F-F-Flipendo!" (knockback jinx) over the entire span of one and half a month.

Ironically, her favorite lesson happened to History of Magic, even if it was regarded as the most boring lesson at Hogwarts. It gave her an uninterrupted chance to study the nature of a ghost on the astral plane, and she did discover a few things since. And as for his style of teaching, it might be boring for eleven-year olds but it was something she was accustomed to. All the information also happened to be mostly new as she'd barely skimmed the textbook _A History of Magic,_ preferring others over the old outdated book.

Halloween arrived and was completely ordinary, except for Quirrell's pet troll. Some Gryffindor girl called Phi Dumber had been absent, but neither of the trio had ever heard of her so nobody cared to go for a suicidal rescue. The girl in question got severely injured by being thrown on the wall by the troll. Personally, Julia suspected Dumbledore was behind this to as some test, and it was test both had failed. In following weeks, she became increasingly paranoid, constantly checking herself for loyalty potions or confundus charms.

Some days later, just before the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, Harry and Julia heard a most peculiar conversation. A few days before Snape had confiscated a book about Quidditch, giving some flimsy reason "Library books are not to be taken outside the school." (They were visiting the giant at that time, and the less said about _that_ the better). He had not bothered to return it since, not even bothering to put it back in the library. So Harry decided to ask him about it. Julia had decided to accompany him since she wanted to see the Hogwarts staff room and more importantly, avoid chatting with the moronic Weasley about some stupid team called Dudley's Cannons.

* * *

Julia pushed the staff room door to see a slightly disturbing scene. Snape had pulled up his robes above knees and his left foot seemed heavily mangled while Filch was handing him some bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Julia quickly closed the door and began to run before Snape could turn his attention at them. A glance from the the corner of her eyes showed that Harry was following her as well. After reaching one floor above in a deserted area, they stopped, assuming they were safe.

"I don't get it." Harry said. "What was he saying? Something about ... eyes and three heads? And why was he injured?"

Julia contemplated how to answer his questions. Well, Harry had to be made aware of the Cerberus and the Stone at some point of time to ensure that Dumbles didn't get too suspicious and this wasn't a bad time for that. So she decided to tell him the truth wrapped in a small lie.

"I heard some crazy rumors that that there is a three-headed dog in the forbidden corridor. Maybe Snape was feeding it or something."

Harry, while not terrified, had never been particularly fond of dogs, especially after Ripper had made him stay on a tree for all night at the tender age of five. "A three headed dog, Lia? That stuff is real?" He asked.

"Magic is real, isn't it?" Julia looked pointedly at him.

"Oh." He muttered sheepishly.

"Anyways, I think we should pay a visit to that corridor. I, for one, am very interested to see a mutant dog."

"Me too, I guess." Harry replied, though she could feel the slight apprehension in his voice.

* * *

It took quite a while for Julia to tell Ronald that _no_ , she had no interest in watching the Quidditch match, even though it was Gryffindor against those _dark, slimy, evil_ Slytherins and _no_ , she was certainly not a secretly Slytherin supporter (Actually, she was, but that's a different story). Harry, being the loyal and overprotective (snort) brother that he was, obviously chose her over Ron. Also, thanks to her, his appreciation for Quidditch was far lower than it was in canon.

Now as they stood in the darkened corridor in front of the wooden door, Harry was rather excited. After all, he had visited the zoo only once, and this was his first chance to see an exotic animal without the Dursleys dragging him around.

Julia took out her rarely used wand and muttered "Alohomora!" at the lock. The door swung open rather quickly only to reveal darkness beyond. Both entered it warily, unable to see anything except a faint outline that was too large to be a dog.

Harry decided to shed some light by casting a Lumos charm, though it was quickly proven to be a bad idea as heard deep growling in front of him. A huge, terrifying shape illuminated by his wandlight appeared in front of them.

They watched the half-asleep beast for a while, both to terrified to make a sound. Harry ran quickly when the dog moved a head that came uncomfortably close to him. Dudley and Co. had provided him much needed running practice during primary school, and now he put it to good use. Instead of doing the same, Julia shot several stunning spells at the dog and closed the door after ensuring that the dog was asleep.

* * *

Within an opulent room full of portaits, whirring trinkets, ancient books and Merlin knows what else, sat the most powerful man in the Wizarding world.

At first glance, he certainly did not look as such, with his face aged beyond measure and snow-white beard grown to waist. Not to mention garish yellow robes that would have been more suitable for a clown rather than the head of one of the most respected teaching institutions.

Nonetheless, his twinkling blue eyes held wisdom accumulated over centuries, and his seemingly frail hands gripped a certain wand with unnatural strength. It was with this wand he had reached where he was now, and he had no intentions to lose it to some newcomer, unlike his old friend Gregorovitch.

This man was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. Even a single position among these would have been too much for an ordinary man to handle, but he was Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, savior of Europe and wielder of two of the famed Deathly Hallows. He had always been anything but ordinary.

Currently, Dumbledore was dreaming grand plans for the future - a future where Muggleborns, purebloods, halfbloods and Muggles all treated each other equally and advanced to a new golden age (under his benevolent guidance, of course). His old friend Gellert had been a fool to underestimate the Muggles, and in the end he and his Nazi puppets crumbled under their combined might. Dumbledore would not make that mistake.

Even since he had been named Chief Warlock, Dumbledore had done his best to lessen the tensions between purebloods and Muggleborns. He tried inducting them in the Wizengamot, only for the Minister to thwart his suggestion since they didn't have the money to fill his coffers. He tried to hire them to teach once the old coot Dippet died, only to get dejected as none were competent enough to be a Professor at Hogwarts.

However, he had done done the next best thing by filling the staff with half-bloods and, as in Filius' case, even a human-goblin hybrid. Not to mention the poor boy Rubeus, whom he had managed to convince Dippet to keep as a Gamekeeper. Dumbledore was thankful that both had decided to embrace their human sides rather than their violent heritage.

Unfortunately, all his work for the last decades had been undone by Tom Riddle in one fell swoop. Thanks to his vile and perverted teachings, the purebloods had become more bigoted and arrogant than ever.

Speaking of Tom, Dumbledore was unsure whether he should congratulate himself over his brilliant scheme. True, he had received definite proof of Voldemort's continued existence, but he was also putting his staff and students at a dangerous risk. He had assured himself many times that it would not matter, for Tom had been hesitant if not afraid to face him when he still had a body and now he would not attempt anything when he was stuck behind a purple turban.

Yet he could feel the guilt claw at his chest. If a word of his schemes managed to reach the public, he was sure they'd set him on fiendfyre for putting their precious children with such a monster. Still, he had to this, if not to find a way to permanently destroy Tom, then at least to test young Harry against him.

His initial plan had been very simple - he had just put an age line around the door in the corridor such that it would only accept those under twelve or over thirty years old. The majority of the students were thus excluded, and combining the age line with a powerful notice-me-not had ensured that very few students would even look at it.

Thus, when the ward was triggered the first time, a delighted Dumbledore had rushed down, hoping that either of the twins had finally become curious and paid dear old Fluffy a visit. Imagine his horror when he found the beast munching on a poor child's remains. Dumbledore had nearly killed the Cerberus in his rage, and Rubeus had been most unhappy to treat its severe burns the next day.

Dumbledore had been forced to cover up the girl's tragic death. With Lucius Malfoy already demanding poor Rolanda Hooch's resignation, he simply could not let anyone know. It had been a simple affair to obliviate the girl's Muggle parents and friends to make them believe that she never existed in the first place. He had also considered obliviating her roommates, but some of them happened to be purebloods who could have family magics to protect them. So he was forced to bring a Metamorphmagus 'friend' (imperiused, naturally) of his to play her part for a day.

It sickened him to commit such acts, but they had to be done in order to defeat the menace of Tom Riddle and so he steeled himself. Perhaps Tom himself was behind poor Miss Granger's death? It certainly fit his modus operandi, as he had killed another poor child by unleashing whatever demon that was hiding in the Chamber of Secrets.

Dumbledore had vowed to himself not to let Tom get away with another act like this. He put myriads of charms and traps around the door so that he could actually see what happened down there while sitting in his office.

As Dumbledore thought of another plan to attract the twin Potters in the forbidden corridor, the wards were triggered again without any warning. Immediately, he immersed himself within the procul-occuli* charm. And, to his immense delight, this time they were indeed the twin Potters.

Happily, he withdrew himself from the charm. He had already put an imperius on the dog and ordered it not to attack anyone, and Quirell/Riddle was currently watching the Quidditch game so Harry and Julia's safety was assured. He had better things to do now anyways, like bringing out a certain mirror from the Department of Mysteries...

* * *

As the Quidditch teams gathered in the pitch, Quirrell decided that it was a good day to rid Dumbledore of those blasted brats, the 'Twins-who-lived', as there were no other teachers except for the dungeon bat, who his Lord had assured to be a former death eater. Neither the old man nor his pet feline were present, so hopefully he would not draw much suspicion.

Really, to suggest that two infants managed to survive his master's wrath was the height of madness for him. He had experienced the Dark Lord's unholy might even in incorporeal form and believed without a shadow of a doubt that he was greatest wizard ever to exist. Greater than Merlin, greater than Salazar Slytherin, greater than Dumbledore and certainly far greater than two little eleven-year old brats. And to believe that the entire Britain thought that they were the ones to defeat the greatest Dark Lord ever?

The death eater shook his head. Well, today he would shatter their belief in the so-called 'Twins-who-lived'. He would see the horrified faces of wizards and witches who were too foolish to bow down before their lord. And, in time, he would become the second-in-command of the Dark Lord and illuminate the world of the truth his Lord taught him: ' _There is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it._ '

* * *

Quirrell was close to scream in frustration after an hour of searching the stands in futility. The Slytherin team seemed to be winning, but that was completely irrelevant. The incredibly biased commentator insulting the noble house of his Lord did not help the matter, either.

He had looked at every single student in the Gryffindor stands, and found that his targets were nowhere to be found. He even searched the Slytherin side in the unlikely event of them supporting their rival house yet they were not present there. Quirrell shivered in fear, for his Master had lent him some of his own power to accomplish this task and Quirrell knew that he would face terrible torture once his master realized how he'd wasted it away.

"Is there a problem, Quirinus?" A voice whispered silkily beside him, barely audible over the noise.

He turned abruptly, surprised by the traitorous Potions Master. "O-o-of c-c-course n-not, S-s-s-severus. F-f-felt a b-bit u-unwell, t-that's all." He stuttered out, nervousness not entirely faked.

Damn. It seemed he would have to kill them on another day. More importantly, he had to prepare for the upcoming torture session with his master.

* * *

*Google Translate Latin - far away + eyes


	4. IV

It was curious, she'd always believed that only living beings would have been capable of Legilimency. Yet, here it was, mocking her, a pretty mirror which happened to be just as powerful as Snape himself in the art. Indeed, its strength was tremendous, but it lacked much needed subtlety and cunning, and Julia easily deflected its mental probes to chase random meaningless memories in her mind.

"Eri...sed...stra... um what's that nonsense?"

Julia glanced at her brother and wondered if he had left his brain back in the Gryffindor tower. Because even for somebody as dumb as him, this had to be obvious, right?

"Try reading it backwards, Harry."

Slowly, he read, "Ish...ow..no..tyo.. wait, I got it! I... show... not... your... face... but... your... hearts... desire!"

"Very good, though I don't know why my 'heart's desire' is just our plain reflection." And it was true. The poor mirror, after its failed attempt at mind-reading was now showing a perfectly normal image of the two of them, without any dead Dursleys, glorious thrones or whatever else her true ambition was. Not that she cared to know.

"Huh, let me see then..." Harry muttered and stood before the mirror, only to freeze in shock. Then he turned around, trying to find phantoms and ghosts.

"What happened, Harry?" She asked but it had little effect on him. Harry seemed entranced by whatever he was looking inside the mirror. Slowly, he raised a quaking hand and touched the glass surface.

Beside him, Julia wondered what he was seeing. It had to be somewhere in the books or movies, but she'd forgotten so much of the earlier books. Hmm... it wasn't that hard to guess. All Harry had ever wanted was love and acceptance, so he could be seeing anybody from their dead parents to loving, caring Dursleys, or the two of them getting adopted by a kinder family... but she'd bet her Horcrux on the first.

"I-I think they're our parents..." He murmured, and she was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

Julia resisted the urge to snort. Not at Harry, the poor boy, but at the cunning old man hiding in the dark corner, for she'd felt his presence immediately after stepping inside the room. Dumbledore was meddling far too much in the lives of two children that it had become hilarious. The compulsions in the dinner, the tracking charms on the cloak, and now this. All planned for this moment, to know the innermost desires of his precious little pawns (or maybe to check their morality, who knew), who happened to be eleven year old kids.

Well, he wouldn't be getting any answers from her, that much was clear. Aside from deceiving the old coot, their little excursion had been a completely waste of time. Harry stayed glued to the mirror for half an hour before she had decided to drag him away.

Julia did asked him to describe their parents for her, though. While she cared little about them, she had to give credit to Lily Potter for saving them. Even after the entire contents of the Hogwarts library at her disposal, Julia understood only a fraction of what her 'mother' had done to them. Not to mention, Dumbles was listening and she had to appear 'good'.

* * *

Harry had become consumed by the need to see his parents again, despite the best attempts of his sister and best friend. Julia did accompany him every time, though it was Ron who had now become ensnared by the thing. His desires, however, were predictable, wealth and recognition.

After the third night Julia remained the only sane person in their triad. Both were now consumed by their visions, spending every second thinking about the damn mirror. On the fourth night, Dumbles decided to drop the pretense of hiding, but the boys were so far gone that they didn't even notice him. Which was quite a feat, since Dumbledore was wearing a blue robe that was sparkling even in the near darkness.

"I see you have returned once again."

Harry and Ron, who were fighting in front of the Mirror, suddenly froze in shock. "I-I didn't see you there, sir," Harry muttered.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore in a disgustingly cheery tone, with a wrinkled smile on his face. He looked deeply in Harry's eyes, and Julia realized with a shock that he was removing all traces of the Mirror's magic from his mind. This was no simple feat, and the old man casually did it through simple eye-contact without any wand or incantation. A hundred years of experience was nothing to sneeze at. It bitterly reminded her of her own failed attempts at Legilimency, almost a year ago, which had turned a bunch of drunkards into comatose patients.

What followed afterwards was another mind healing and a mostly pointless conversation. Dumbles warned them of the mirror's dangers, decided that her desire was to be with her brother, and her mind too sharp to be affected by it. He also proclaimed, after questioning, that his greatest wish was to get thick, woolen socks as a Christmas present. Julia barely held her laughter, but the boys seemed to actually believe him. Another ominous warning later, Harry and Ronald headed for the Gryffindor tower. Julia, however, took the Cloak and left for the Room of Requirement for some research.

She had somewhat understood the true nature of the Mirror. It was difficult to find it with Dumbledore standing over her shoulder, but now she realized that it had been a powerful soul bound inside the mirror. The soul attempted to lure others to it, and Julia suspected that all those who died before it had become part of the vile artefact. The fact that Albus Dumbledore, Paragon of Light, Savior of Europe, etc, etc, would use such a thing upon some innocent children again reaffirmed her suspicions about him, the man was far from the saint he was portrayed as in the series, and someone to be rightfully feared.

The Mirror had given her an interesting idea: what if she could bind Voldemort's shade into an object? The thing would become like just another Horcrux of his, except in his case he wouldn't have a main soul piece floating around anymore.

The Room produced all the books she would need to understand to perform such a "ritual" (for the lack of a better word). Runes, Arithmancy, Spell-crafting, nearly every topic seemed to be represented in the massive pile. There seemed to be around thirty to forty books, with each of them containing more than four hundred pages. Not to mention, she had a time limit of four months.

Julia sighed and rubbed her head. Even with Occlumency, this was going to be extra hard.

* * *

"-and now, if we beat Hufflepuff by 350 points, and Slytherin loses to -" Ron continued his useless diatribe, ignoring the shouts of his chess pieces.

It was somewhat of a holiday for the 'golden trio' as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff clashed against each other in a silly Quidditch match with all the classes on that day cancelled. Harry and Julia promptly opted to stay behind, alongside mostly fifth and seventh years who were too busy studying. An annoyed ginger was forced to remain as well, though he kept glancing out the windows occasionally.

"I don't care, Ronald. Play, it's your turn." Julia sighed. While certainly not a match for her, Ron was actually quite a talented chess player for his age, and could've easily won some trophies in the 'Muggle' world for his skill. Unfortunately for him, wizards saw chess very much like Snakes and Ladders, or something equally childish.

Also, more annoyingly, they had made the chess pieces _sentient_. This meant that they always resisted being sacrificed or exchanged, and if you were not paying attention they would play by themselves. Which was quite terrible, since they were cowards and only wanted to continue their existence. The only things they were bound by were the rules of chess, (thankfully including castling and en passant) and hatred towards the opposing army.

"But it's Quidditch!" Weasley shouted in response, glaring at her as if she had committed some terrible sacrilege. The White King answered by throwing his needle-sized sword on his nose, another disadvantage of having sentient chess pieces.

"Who are we playing against, anyway?" Harry looked up from scribbling some essay and asked in a bored tone. His lack of interest was obvious because he hadn't even flown on a broom yet - all the flying lessons were cancelled because of Quidditch practice. "Um, Ron, what happened to your nose?" Weasley certainly looked even more ridiculous with a needle sticking out of his nose.

"You're both hopeless." Ron sighed, and removed the needle-sword stuck in his nose. He still didn't pay any attention to his pieces, who, by now were discussing strategy among themselves.

That was when it all went to hell.

* * *

Quirinus Quirrell glowered angrily at the Quidditch stands. This time, too, the brats hadn't bothered to show up. But he had prepared for this, and tampered with the Bludgers beforehand.

A nasty smirk spread upon his face as the Bludgers soared towards the Gryffindor tower with a single wave of his wand, while the four beaters just hovered stupidly in shock. Then they shook out of the stupor but by then it was too late, the Bludgers had already reached the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

It began with a thunderous crash as the ball crashed with the window.

The Bludger hurtled towards her with the speed of a bullet train, and Julia had a fraction of a second to duck before it would've smashed her head. Unfortunately, bludgers were made to chase sports brooms and the jet black ball easily reverted its momentum. Dimly, she noted that another of those things had broken in and was chasing after Harry even as the ball again flew at her.

This time, though, she was ready and did her best to grasp it with telekinesis. But the ball was made out of iron, weighed around 150 pounds (sixty-seven kilos) and had already several charms placed on it that interfered with her magic.

Thankfully her attempt did manage to confuse the jinx hastily put by Quirrell. The Bludger's tracking system, or whatever it was supposed to be, determined that it was far from where it should be, and it flew out to hit the head of a confused Hufflepuff beater floating outside the tower. Julia did not bother to see what happened to him, as her attention shifted towards the more pressing concerns in the room: her brother, lying unconscious, and Ronald Weasley, lying on the Bludger and trying his best to hold it. Soon, the Gryffindor brother beaters, who also happened to be Ron's twin brother flew in to take the ball while he and Julia carried Harry to the hospital wing.

* * *

Harry was mostly fine. His reflexes, honed by years of Dursley-beating, had served him well. He had suffered a glancing blow on the head, but nothing particularly serious, as the healer Pomfrey had remarked as she healed him with a simple spell. Within a minute, the boy was good as new.

After a few days, a large portion of the ceiling above the fourth floor fell on top of the triad. Julia managed to stop it by casting a 'locomotor' charm without incantation (just telekinesis, with some wand waving for show). A sickly-looking Quirrell and a menacing Snape managed to retrieve them just in time. Harry and Ronald, being the idiots they were, chose to blame Snape.

This was Voldemort's second attempt at assassination, and Julia was getting tired of it already. She had recently found that binding Voldemort's shade in one of his pre-existing Horcruxes would be far, far simpler with no need of those boring books. While she was aware of their locations, they could also possess her and she had no desire to become another Quirrell. Thus she took her platinum ring from Gringotts, hoping that her Horcrux would be sufficient to counter other influences.

The question was, which Horcrux to choose? The Diadem was right inside Hogwarts itself, but it could be used for better purposes as intended by its creator. The Diary and the Cup were unreachable, for she had no intention of breaking inside Malfoy Manor or Lestrange Vault for now. There were some half-cooked plans, of course, but they could wait till she got rid of Quirrell.

So, that left the Slytherin locket, which should be somewhere in a dreary house known as 12, Grimmauld place. The RoR could not produce a detailed map of London, but it did give directions to find one. The elvish minion Corby was again sent to do the thievery.

In a completely coincidental event, a poorly dressed extraterrestrial stole a map of London in Glasgow. The alien looked rather malnourished, pointy-eared, tiny and wore nothing but a loincloth. Of course, the incident was immediately declared to be a hoax by the authorities, but there were a few wizards working undercover in the government who frowned at the blatant breach of Statute of Secrecy. An investigation was undertaken by the Ministry of Magic, but it yielded nothing as house-elf magic was utterly undetectable to all wizards. The Unspeakables might have been able to detect it, but this case was just too trivial for them.

* * *

"MUDBLOODS! FILTH! THIEF! BLOOD TRAITORS IN MY HOUSE-"

As expected, the house was a grim, old thing, empty except for a crazed house-elf and an even more crazy portrait. Thankfully, Julia remembered the last book better that the others and had brought a pair of charmed earmuffs, stolen from herbology class of some older batch. As it was, they were barely enough to shield her ears from the unnaturally loud voice of the shrieking portrait.

An old house-elf appeared before her which she promptly threw at the portrait. The woman fled as dark red blood splattered over her picture. Without another thought, Julia snapped the creature's neck and decided to dissect it later.

It was rather funny, she concluded, that she, a little girl, had broken into a house full of dark magic at midnight, completely alone, and didn't even feel a shred of fear. 'He' would have never entertained such course of action in her past life. But now she was a superhuman. The only thing that could truly threaten her was the Horcrux, which her third sight indicated to be at the topmost floor.

For some weird reason, there was a dead body on the second floor, found to be remarkably well preserved in contrast to its filthy surroundings. A closer inspection revealed that it was a creature that fed on fear and terror, capable of shifting into people's worst nightmares. However, it had to use Legilimency which was just pathetic compared to what she had to face everyday. So it just transformed into 'default' fear, a dead body of the person it faced. Julia chuckled in response and burned the false body.

There was a sudden feeling from the Horcrux as she burned the changeling. It seemed to have grown a bit (not physically, but by soul). This bore an investigation, so Julia decided to stop her search for the locket and opened her mind to her ring.

The ring wasn't sentient yet. There was some ambient magic that it could absorb in Gringotts, but mostly it had remained the same. But when the boggart died by fire and laughter, its pitiful soul was promptly eaten by the Horcrux. So now it was able to send some messages and vague impressions to its master. From the images Julia deduced that it could eat souls and grow stronger, and it wanted Muggle souls to eat. She chose to humor the ring for while she herself found them too large to assimilate, there might be a chance that it could somehow be able to do that. Also, 'Muggle-hunting' was fun.

The next couple of hours were spent in some Irish town (for the trace couldn't reach there) in a drunken haze. Insect and animal souls had always been tasty, like a chocolate or a strawberry, but such huge souls were just pure bliss. When Julia came back to her senses she was surrounded by a hundred soul-drained bodies. She didn't have time to vanish all of them so she burned them with a good old Incendio. However, some did survive, and were found by magical authorities who blamed rogue dementors. The Horcrux now thrummed with power, a faint golden light emitting from its diamond. But while it could easily counter the captured locket's malicious influence, it still didn't seem fully sentient.

Thus Julia began stage two of her plan. She had no interest in the Philosopher's stone, for the RoR had showed that it was a fake while the real one was hidden in Dumbledore's transdimensional pocket. It was protected by such powerful spells and wards that it was far beyond her reach, so she could confront Quirrell right then, bind Voldemort to Slytherin's locket and avoid the ridiculous end-of-the year battle between good and evil. This plan was based on the theory that Voldemort should be able to feel the destruction of his diadem when it was so close to him. If it did not, well there would always be the end of the year. Attacking him in his room was also worth considering.

Brought into the RoR by her loyal slave, Julia immediately began the long journey towards the diadem as the Room transformed into the room of hidden things, where students had been storing stuff for ten centuries. There were quite a few books on dark arts that seemed unfamiliar, which she greedily grabbed and put in her bottomless pouch. Pettigrew's right hand, the one having the dark mark was also retrieved for further study.

The Diadem was an old, discolored tiara, and was on the head of an ugly statue of some wizard. It immediately tried to enter in her mind, offering knowledge and wisdom and a great many things - but was immediately rebuffed by her ring Horcrux. A killing curse later, the diadem turned into dust, the soul magic holding it broken and dissipated. This was the power of Avada Kedavra: it utterly shattered all sorts of wards, charms and curses, and was one of the few things that could harm and even destroy the soul.

The Room again bent to her will and a screen appeared in front of her, showing the barely awakened form of Quirrell. He was groaning loudly in his bed, massaging his forehead and slowly began to grab the vial on his bedside table.

He seemed to improve after drinking the silvery liquid in the vial. "M-Master?" He muttered, barely audible but relayed to her nonetheless. After a long silence, Voldemort hissed, "Something has happened. I can feel it,".

This was followed by... nothing. Quirrell sat for a while in case his master said anything, but Voldemort didn't speak a word. Eventually, Quirrell drifted to sleep as well, leaving a disappointed girl-who-lived standing in the Room of Requirement.

* * *

"How d'yeh know 'bout Fluffy?"

Visits to Hagrid were usually very uncomfortable and boring, where the half-giant made tea and wasted a lot of their time by talking about stupid things. They were also quite unavoidable, for her twin brother liked the mutant very much. However, this one was slightly more important seeing that the Headmaster had compelled them to talk about the Cerberus. Even Hagrid was under a powerful compulsion, and Julia couldn't help but be awed at such display of power, for Hagrid was naturally very resistant to magic due to his heritage.

Hearing such a fitting name for the dreaded guardian of the underworld, Harry choked. "Fluffy?!" while Julia was unable to suppress giggling.

"Ya, the doggie's mine, bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard Flamel's St-"

"Yes?"

"Now, don' ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "Tha's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it." Harry said.

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

Meanwhile, Julia decided it was high time that the idiots were enlightened. "Flamel? As in Nicholas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher's stone?"

"SHHH!" Hagrid glanced around his cabin as if someone could overhear them. "Student's aren' supposed ter know, don' go telling anybody 'bout it to everyone. They'd think I 've told yeh-"

Harry decided to interrupt. "But why is it in a school, Hagrid? Why not in a more secure place, like Gringotts or-"

"Gringotts? Ha! Those goblins can' do their job properly - it was almost stolen, didn't ya hear? Though I suppose yeh already worked it out an' all. Don' worry, it's the safest here, every Professor has added enchantments an' all, even Dumbledore helped, I heard." Ah, right. Hagrid was as loyal to Dumbles as Quirrell was to Voldemort, and his face brightened up every time hearing - or saying - the old man's name.

The rest was just usual pathetic banter which Julia had no interest in. However, she was very much interested in the dragon egg that Hagrid was keeping in his fireplace. Perhaps her elves would be able to steal it?

What a stupid question. Of course they would, given that Hagrid's only security consisted of a cowardly dog.

* * *

"It's beautiful, mistress!" The elf screamed cheerfully at the sight of the newly hatched dragon.

" _Thank_ you, elf. Now go and do your work." Julia retorted. It was a good thing that these things didn't understand sarcasm and took everything she said as compliments. She also had no reason to beat them, for they did that themselves too. In short, perfect minions anyone could ask for.

The dragon was, obviously, very ugly. Its eyes glowed a deep orange, and the snout was long and thin resembling a pair of scissors. The wings were crumpled and thin, but relatively large compared to its body. Overall, the wings made it look like a trashy broken umbrella.

"Imperio," Julio muttered. For a newborn, the dragon had an impressive resistance but it could not match her will to dominate. Perhaps, when it grew older, it would have become much tougher to control. But that was now irrelevant, since it would never have the chance to do so. Already, her curse was warping its mind to serve her forever, and soon it would become nothing more than an extension of her will. Casting Imperius upon newborns, be they humans or not, was often permanent and resulted in very twisted individuals for their minds were nothing more than blank slates and all they knew was servitude.

"What should I name you, I wonder?" She whispered as she gently lifted the dragon. It hissed in response, and a small spark fell out of its mouth. For a while she really considered names, Drogon, Rhaegal, Smaug, Ancalagon, Glaurung... but what did it matter? She could just leave it unnamed and it would still serve her. Names, in the end, were nothing more than labels.

Putting the little unnamed beast down, Julia glanced at her surroundings. They were in Sirius Black's house, now looking much cleaner thanks to her elves. The walls, once blackened with grime, were now revealed to be brown. Then there were the broken chandelier and the gas lamps, which were thrown out by the elves and replaced with (stolen) newer ones. Then there was a dresser, which was inhabited by tarantula-sized spiders (such tasty souls) not to mention those devilish blue pixies, who were still at large. Their poison, as weak as it was, was still poisonous to her elves.

"Corby," She called, looking at the elf that was now scratching the dirt off some useless medal.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Feed the dragon a bucket full of brandy mixed with chicken blood, every half an hour until it falls asleep." Why the dragon babies required such strange diet she had no idea, nor was she willing to investigate, but for now she would trust 'Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit', an ancient book written about three centuries ago.

"As mistress commands." The elf replied and bowed its head.


	5. V

**AN:** This chapter was edited by **ruby lips above the water** (here **DancingLilies** ), who has graciously accepted to be my beta and turned this chapter more readable.

* * *

"Chapter XVIII. And now we move on to the topic of Emeric the Evil, a medieval dark wizard who terrorized southern England in the 13th Century..." The ghostly professor continued to drone, completely unaware of the sound of several heads hitting desks with several loud 'thud's.

"I'm so going to fail." Ron muttered miserably as he scribbled on a large piece of parchment. He apparently didn't even understand basic Transfiguration even after Julia's help and as such was given extra assignments by McGonagall. And what better time was there to finish those off, if not the History class?

Harry followed his example as well, except that he was completing an essay given by Snape. As for Julia, well she had busied herself reading the Daily Prophet as she had already read about Emeric the Evil.

Sadly, it was just as pathetic as depicted in canon. Half of it was filled with ads about wand polish, love potions, pet Crups (magic dogs?) and whatnot. The headline was 'DRAGON BURNS MUGGLE BOAT, 3 AURORS INJURED'. Over a hundred and fifty Muggles had also been severely injured, but nobody really cared about them. Then there was 'Paedophilius Lovegood? Insane Quibbler editor found molesting Muggle child' where the man claimed that he was trying to capture a 'Blibbering Humdinger'(!) whilst sitting upon the child. The article, as expected, was written by Rita Skeeter.

There should have been a lot of global news, considering that USSR had collapsed just a few weeks ago. But aside from a useless 'Missing Yeti found in Afghanistan, killed by Muggles', there was not a single article featuring foreign news. Even this one was ridiculous. The poor Yeti had escaped from a famous Tibetan wizard's menagerie and had gone west, only to end up in a battlefield, getting gunned down by Afghan soldiers.

Suddenly an extra loud thump echoed through the classroom. "Mr. Lamprey? Why are you sleeping on the floor?" The ethereal professor asked, showing that he was completely fine with students hibernating in his class if only they slept on desks.

Sure enough, Neville Longbottom was lying face down in the classroom entrance. Which was funny, considering that the boy hadn't been in the class to begin with. "Lamprey?" Ron muttered incredulously. Some Gryffindor girls (who were they again? Lav and Parroty?) sitting across them giggled. Julia had never bothered to even talk with them beyond a few words, for a gaggle of giggling girls does not make a large power base, or any for that matter.

Neville made a low, whining sound that would have been more appropriate for a kicked puppy. "Somebody's... cursed his legs?" Julia murmured uncertainly.

"How d'you guess that?" Harry blinked in surprise. Julia poked him. "Look." It became obvious from the way the boy attempted to move by his hands while his feet were stuck to each other. It looked as if he was trying to do push-ups.

"A leg-locking charm of some sort, I think. Easy to undo. Finite." Julia murmured and waved her wand vaguely in Neville's direction, who was at once freed from the curse. "Th-Th-Thanks, J-J-" Neville stood up and began, only to be cut off by their Professor as he began his droning again. "... and the Dark wizard is also believed to have murdered the entire Balthorp family, one of the descendants of Helga Hufflepuff..."

"Think nothing of it, Neville," Julia replied and turned the page of the paper. Hmm, nothing worthwhile in the Sports section either. Who cared if the Banchory Bangers (seriously?) were swept away by the Tutshill Tornados? And how come Equatorial Guinea and Seychelles even have Quidditch teams?

"Neville, who did this?" Harry asked quietly as Neville seated himself next to them.

Finally tired of the stupid paper, Julia began to sort through her bag to find something worthwhile to read. Neville murmured something about Malfoy and licking boots, which resulted in Ron establishing the exchange rate of Neville and Malfoy (1 Neville = 100 Dracos). Julia tried to help Neville by teaching him how to cast Finite, though as usual he failed horribly. After the silly distractions were over, Julia finally reached reached a book with a suspicious leathery cover tucked deep inside her bottomless pouch. She could only hope that it was better than all the incessant chattering and Binn's droning about the number of mermen slaves Emeric had.

* * *

Shetland is a small group of islands northeast to the British Isle. Sparsely populated, it also happened to be only about two hundred kilometers further from Hogwarts and thus well within the apparition range of house-elves. And unlike Orkney, completely trace-free as well. As Corby brought Julia on a tiny island among the archipelago at midnight, she felt an invisible weight lift from her shoulders, signifying the absence of the powerful Trace. Even in Ireland, it was still there, though it couldn't really track her since she wasn't registered with the Irish Ministry of Magic.

What Julia was going to attempt to do was somewhat of a trial run against Voldemort. It was a magic so twisted that had she attempted it in Ireland, their entire Auror Corps would've descended upon her before she could say 'Avada'. It was in one of the several rare 'Dark Arts' tomes she had found in the room. The book had human skin as cover (naturally) and was written with blood (also, perfectly common). It deemed the kind of magic she was going to try as 'Infernal', though it could be best termed as 'Guide to deal with things living beyond reality'. In other words, angels, demons, gods, and as such.

It wasn't really as scary as she'd expected. These things were apparently much weaker than what she had presumed, as monotheistic Creator-worshipping religions like Christianity and Islam had starved them of worship and sacrifice. She had already encountered them during her initial forays at astral projections, which suddenly made a lot of sense after reading the book.

Her goal was to summon one such being into realspace, and for that, she had to offer it tasty souls. In other words, this was also Sacrificial magic, one of the many things forbidden by ICW upon its inception and punishable by death or Dementor's kiss.

With a wave of her ringed hand, the area in front of her cleared to form a flat circle of exactly 1.608 meters in diameter. Another wave transfigured a large rock into a wooden pole of 2.718 meters, which she put in the center of the circle. The reason for using the golden ratio and _e_ was simple - symbolism. To those on the other side of the barrier, symbolism was everything, for deep down they knew that they were nothing more than barely sentient packets of energy influenced by the collective will of the living, and desperately sought to avoid this truth with grandiose names, angelic wings, demonic horns, or as such.

Surrounding the circle were a bunch of wooden crosses and some stupid runes called Sowilo. With the faith of a billion people empowering it, the cross was a significantly powerful artefact - or so the book claimed. Probably against daemons at least, but that should suffice. As for Sowilo, it had the shape of Harry's infamous scar and thus was very important to Wizarding Britain. Coincidentally, it was also the rune of Sun and victory.

And now, for the sacrifice... "Bring the prisoner, Jeeny." muttered Julia and watched indifferently as a horrifically mutilated man was dumped within the circle moments later.

He had been an Obliviator of the Irish Ministry. She had to admit, those Irish wizards were far more competent than their British counterparts. They had quickly detected her attacks on the Muggle villages, and on the third time, they had finally found her. Their only mistake was that they had assumed she was a dementor, and had sent a pack of ethereal creatures to defend the village while Obliviators searched for any survivors. Julia could not hope to match such overwhelming might, so she fled with a stunned Obliviator. To her dismay, his soul was far too big to eat, so she had him used for spell practice for the next few nights.

She calmly cast a Cruciatus on the man and watched. The man's pain eventually resonated in the immaterium and turned into a beacon that drew many spirits towards the man. Opening her third sight, Julia witnessed creatures that would have driven any human insane, with too many fangs, maws, eyes, tentacles, genitalia that defied all logic and reason. These were spirits born of a single (usually disgusting) act, pathetically weak, and spent their brief existence trying to eat each other. But her attention was not towards those lesser filth, but the humanoid golden spirit behind them.

_Come, honored spirit of ages past. Feast upon this tasty morsel, and clothe yourself in flesh once more._

A tad dramatic, perhaps, but then most of these beings were supposed to have a very large sense of self-esteem. The being hovered closer, radiating joy, surprise and confusion, and 'wrapped' itself 'around' the broken soul of the Irishman.

The change was gradual. Two new hands and legs slowly grew out of his stumps. The heavily scarred, burnt face healed and became sharp and angular with skin smooth as porcelain. New eyes grew out of the ruined sockets, shining a molten gold. The clothes, reduced to rags under an experimental 'cleaning' charm turned into a yellow toga. But most alarmingly, the man burst on fire. Orange flames spread around his body, though they ended up being nullified by the circle of crosses, which shone with a sickening white light.

"Uuuhhhh..." The thing moaned. Then it glanced at its lit hands.

 _ **Flesh**_ , It thought, sending it crashing against her mental shields. _**I wear Flesh. Children of the Sun are not meant to wear flesh.**_ It attempted to do the same with its vocal chords, but that ended up something like "Kaaugh zruuuf graaaaiiihzg" as they were still regenerating.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Julia asked the creature. It was being polite, after all.

The thing's face was further altering. Its two eyes were fusing together to form one single, huge golden eye in the middle of the forehead shining in an image of the Sun. Its bald head moved upwards and the Sun-like eye eerily focused on her.

Heliopaths, It replied mentally. We are the cursed children of the Sun, spreading His misery across all the world.

How nice. She had summoned a Sun spirit in the middle of the night. Probably due to the Sowilo rune, though it didn't really matter. This little spirit had to suffice for her little experiment. She simply grasped its soul with her ethereal hands and _pulled_.

"AARGRAGHGAGGH!" The so-called Heliopath yelled at her while attempting to counter her on the unreal plane. Its spirit was strong, perhaps, but it was now stuck half on the mortal plane, thus losing its natural advantage while her ring Horcrux guided her in the madness of unreality. Thus the spirit ended up getting ripped out of the Obliviator, reverting him to his original state. Now the spirit hung like a golden mist at the edge of the circle, neither fully in unreality nor in realspace.

Julia took out a long steel dagger found in the Room of Requirement from her mokeskin pouch. The dagger was nothing special, mostly covered in rust and some weird designs of flowers and snakes. There was also an emerald in the hilt, but she had ignored it, considering that she already had too much jewelry thanks to those dumb elves. Sensing a distraction, the spirit thrashed even vigorously, turning her mental hands into jelly for a second before her grip resumed tenuously. Clutching onto the flame-spirit had become akin to hold boiling oil and she simply couldn't do both of the tasks at the same time.

Thankfully she had a faithful minion. Even as she fell on the ground, she muttered, "Jeeny, hold this dagger in the middle of the golden mist."

"Yes, mistress."

While the elf moved, the duel between Julia and the Heliopath continued in the Immaterium.

 _'The Sun shall not forgive this sacrilege!'_ Shrieked the spirit desperately. Here, it was clad in Greek armor and helmet that shone a dazzling gold while in its hands was a sword wreathed in flames. It would have been really impressive, if only they weren't in the realm of thoughts and imagination.

Julia tightened her hold. _'What is that even supposed to mean? You are no Sun spirit. You nothing more than an echo of the faith of a long-dead people.'_

The truth was bitter, and it made the spirit howl in pain. Its power weakened and Julia attacked it with renewed vigor.

_'NO! I am the son of Helios, accursed and forgotten by the gods-'_

_'You are NOTHING. And you will serve me.'_

The wills of the two beings clashed, ethereal and substantial, imagined versus real, energy against flesh. For a long time, the spirit managed to hold back the mortal, but in the end the outcome was inevitable. The Heliopath was simply too weak, attempting to survive in a world that had forgotten him and his brothers while his opponent was very much real and powerful. Not to mention that he was also wasting a lot of his power just to maintain the cohesion of his spirit-form. Eventually the spirit's will broke, and it was finally overpowered and confined into the rusty dagger.

"Mistress! Jeeny's hands be burning!" The elf yelled. Julia groaned and rose from the ground, feeling utterly exhausted. Her elf was holding what appeared to be a two feet long sword which was lit from the hilt to the tip, resembling the Heliopath's weapon in unreality. "Drop it quickly, fool!" She ordered.

But by the time the elf dropped it, her hands burned all the way up to the shoulders. Seeing its state, the creature immediately began to hit its head and cry, though not in pain as one would expect.

"Jeeny has no hands! Jeeny cannot serve Mistress anymore!"

Julia paused. "Can you still Apparate?"

The elf blinked. And Disapparated with a pop, only to reappear again.

Julia sighed at its stupidity. "See, you can still serve me. Now take us back to Grimmauld place." And before she could say anything, they were standing in the hallway of the house. Glancing at Corby, who was busy feeding the Imperiused Dragon, she said, "And neither of you will attempt to touch this sword." and went to the upper floors to store it temporarily. Distantly, she could hear the elves talking:

"What's be happened to Jeeny's hands?"

"They's be burned by evil yellow thing, Corby."

* * *

"Murderer! Vile spirit!"

"Begone from our forest, you-"

Quirinus Quirrell lazily waved his wand over the offending creatures in his path and watched as they turned into a harmless pair of butterflies. Only a year ago, he could never have imagined wielding such power, but now thanks to his Master such transfigurations were simpler than first-year charms.

It was such a shame he couldn't outright kill those beasts. Despite their pretentious attitude and moral behavior, the Centaurs were no allies of Dumbledore and he had to ensure that they remained as such. With their foresight and mysterious magics, these half-breeds could have very well turned the Wizarding war.

Quirrell clutched his head in pain as his Lord reminded him of his purpose. With a mental apology, Quirrell stood straight and glanced at his surroundings attentively. Finding a unicorn at night was relatively simple, given that they naturally radiated a lot of light. Catching it, however was a different matter altogether. Unicorns were already suspicious of males, and now that he was hosting the Dark Lord they absolutely hated him.

There was a simple solution to this, however. Quirrell closed his eyes and opened his mind to his weakened Master and, for a few moments, beheld the world as He saw it.

He saw Hogwarts, standing glorious and resplendent, except it was more of a lighthouse than a castle. Its walls were carved with intricate multicolored patterns, which he had guessed to be the wards. He saw the Forbidden Forest, except it was alive with a malignant intelligence, its trees shadowed monsters with fangs and claws. He saw a flock of small beasts full of malice and venom, tearing lesser animals apart. Acromantulas. He saw the two centaurs he had transfigured earlier, though here they appeared in their original form, shackled by butterfly shaped chains who kept glaring hatefully at him.

And, further away, he saw a tiny white stain on the otherwise darkened forest... a bright speck of purity and compassion desperately trying to run away from him. Unicorn. Good.

'TURN BACK, FOOL!' His Master's voice suddenly rang in his ears. His vision blurred as he moved and glanced behind him.

He could not make any sense of what he saw. There was a tiny dark grey figure behind him emanating smoke that whispered of great ambitions and terrible destinies. It was the size of a first year, really, but it was also wielding a large rod of pure flame half its size in one hand and a chained serpent in the other. Before he could even blink an eye, the figure suddenly threw the flaming rod at him.

With the quick reflexes granted by the Dark Lord, he jumped to his right, narrowly avoiding the rod (which kept blurring between that and a sword as his normal vision began to return) that was aimed for his heart. The downside was that it was now stuck in his left arm. With a wave of his wand, he banished the tiny figure and watched as it hit the tree, even as his own arm was turning into charcoal and ash.

A curious numbing sensation ran through his entire body as his Master possessed it directly. The possession caused their minds to open to each other again. The Dark Lord's emotions washed over his mind like fiendfyre that left him shivering at the back of his brain. Most of it was rage, immense rage at the intruder (thief?) but there was also a huge undercurrent of - dare he say it - fear.

The Master used his hand to cast a silent summoning spell. In response, a dark green locket, with a serpentine S carved at the front flew in Quirrell's waiting hand. Its touch somehow reminded him of the Dark Lord's presence itself.

"Julia Potter." The Lord hissed angrily. Given that she had already attacked him, there was no point in trying to conceal his true identity. The girl had worn a black cloak and goggles, but they could not really stop someone as his Master from recognizing her. "How nice of you to join us, and return my own property. Crucio!" Quirrell shivered as his Master's molten hate flowed over him again.

However, the pathetic girl was not completely out, it seemed. She waved her hand, and a stone flew out to intercept the Unforgivable. The resulting collision turned the stone into dust and blew over the girl. Despite his disgust for her, Quirrell couldn't help but be impressed. Wandless magic was extremely difficult to master, and this child had done it in her first year. He could not hide his thoughts to his Lord, though, and the Lord irritatedly squashed his consciousness. Forgive me, master, Quirrell managed to send before everything was replaced by blackness.

* * *

Coughing out the dust from her lungs, Julia desperately tried to stand against the tree even with pain lancing through her legs. Her left leg was probably broken, if the sheer amount of pain was any indicator. Occlumency couldn't help her here, it was designed to protect from only external attacks, not potions and real pains.

She seemed to have severely underestimated Voldemort, that much was clear. As she looked at him, several patches of skin decayed and fell on the ground, showing that he had directly possessed his minion. Hogwarts was a terrible place to use third sight, given the sheer amount of energy coursing through its walls alone. Here, for the first time, she glimpsed underneath Quirrell's broken soul to see what Voldemort had become... and it left her both awed and disgusted.

She had thought that cutting his soul would have weakened him, but it was far from the truth. He had become more demon than man, a thing of pure fear and insanity. Whatever had happened to him after he lost his body had changed his very essence, turning him into an aberration forevermore. Later, Julia would find that it was due to the terror and disgust held by Wizarding Britain towards him. As all inhabitants of the Unreality were subject to the whim of mortals, so would Voldemort become what wizards thought of him: a mighty serpentine terror, whose name should never be spoken.

As she continued to cough, Voldemort seized his opportunity. Before she could attempt anything, she was slammed on the tree again and her body below the neck was frozen.

"Tell me, foolish child," Quirrellmort hissed, pointing his wand at her, "Who gave you my preciouss locket?"

Worse, she was starting to feel the beginning of a powerful mind probe. In this state, she could not hope to resist him, and Voldemort knowing the future was the worst case scenario possible.

"J-Je-Jeeny," She barely managed to stutter out. Voldemort was confused by the image of the house-elf in her mind for half a second before the distinctive POP of house-elf apparition echoed behind him. Not taking his sight off her even for a second, Voldemort threw his hand behind and hit the elf with a silent killing curse. It brought her no more than a second.

It was enough. Barely.

Julia was wearing her own horcrux as well, a potent focus rivalling ten wands put together. With his attention diverted, she easily unmade the immobilizing curse, and before he could turn back Julia imagined his neck crushing, finally getting a chance to mimic Vader, and with her telekinesis amplified by the ring Quirrellmort could not hope to resist her. So fell the Man with Two Faces, dying an ignoble death at the hands of a pathetic little girl.

She had just retrieved the locket when a black cloud full of malice and insanity arose from the still-twitching corpse. Realizing she had precious little time left, Julia thrust the locket in its center and cast her mind into the aether once again.

This time, there was no contest. The Dark Lord was no mere Heliopath, not some antique piece of forgotten fiction. There were thousands of wizards in Europe afraid of him still, and with Julia exhausted by the confrontation, she had no chance to withstand him. Voldemort's avatar, a poisonous green Basilisk struck at hers (a Dementor-ish figure) again and again, each akin to a physical kick in the stomach. The first itself drove her to her knee. By the time he had reached four, she had broken a rib and was bleeding through her nose and ears. She could actually feel her memories leaking down her broken form, and Voldemort's shock and glee at receiving future knowledge from Canon was palpable. Worse, she could feel greater predators approaching, intending to feast upon her soon to be shattered soul.

The blood, unexpectedly, proved to be turning point. Julia had mostly forgotten about the supposed blood protection at this point, but the few drops of blood fallen from her nose penetrated the cloud and set it ablaze. In the aether, the serpent lost most of its coherency, leaving Julia to force it easily into both locket and ring Horcruxes. Despite her attempts, the larger part went to the locket, which meant she had just made Voldemort's Horcrux even more stronger. That would be something to deal with in the future. After burning Quirrell's body with the abandoned flamesword, Julia quickly called her now sole elf to hide away all suspicious items, all the while trying to come up with a good story to fool the Headmaster.

* * *

Harry had not left his sister's side for the entire day. He was, naturally, one of the first to be informed when the groundskeeper had carried the charred body of the Defense professor and the unconscious girl-who-lived. The Headmaster had kept it a very well-guarded secret, which naturally meant that the entire school was aware of the incident. There were at least twenty-six rumours floating around, and Albus' favorite one was where they had confronted a hungry dragon, a drunken Centaur and a Minotaur.

The Headmaster scrutinized the girl through a distant viewing charm, a hundred thoughts running in his head. Quirrell's last move was shockingly uncharacteristic. Albus had known that Quirrell would need Unicorn blood to prevent his body from decaying, and he had grudgingly accepted the slaughter of the innocent creatures. Yet another sin to stain upon his soul. Though exactly why Quirrell had kidnapped the girl, he could not understand.

He hummed thoughtfully as he chewed upon yet another lemon drop (It was his 355,297th, according to his eidetic memory) and let go of the charm. The analysis of the site showed traces of potent dark magic, though it was not overly reliable, since the Forest attracted darker varieties of magic naturally. However the rest of his analysis was rather shocking.

Infernal magic. The type of magic whose name was forbidden. After the horrors performed by Gellert during the Second World War, the newly founded ICW had tried its best to destroy each and every scrap regarding its existence, and in that regard, it had been mostly successful, though there were still exceptions across the globe. Scattered cults of deluded dark wizards trying to summon eldritch, extradimensional abominations who had to be put down occasionally, but thank Merlin, those tended to be very rare. That left a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered Gellert's shambling monstrosities all too well, and as the Head of the ICW, he always got the front row seat to execution of the important demon cultists.

He smiled as he felt the wards outside his door chime softly, though without the identity of his guest. There were only three people in the Castle with the knowledge to confound his wards, and he knew who the visitor couldn't be.

"Come in, my boy."

The doors opened to reveal a plain, unassuming wizard carrying a muggle suitcase. Everything about him, from the brown eyes and hair to plain black robes, just seemed unimportant, as if he was no more than another part of the door.

Albus knew very well that everything he saw about the man was a lie. The man was an Unspeakable, one of the few elites who had been given access to esoteric magic by Albus' own decree, and always surrounded himself by glamours and Notice-Me-Nots for obvious reasons. Still, his petty protections wouldn't be enough for the likes of himself. If the young man was poking his nose in things he had no business in, Albus would promptly wipe out his memories.

"Headmaster." The Unspeakable nodded at him. Then, to his amusement, the man gave a deep bow to the Phoenix standing on his perch. Of course. Due to his background, the Unspeakable would know the true nature of this particular being.

"I have finished the analysis of the site." The Unspeakable stated. "You were right in the regard of Unforgivables being cast, Sir. Stone shrapnel nearby are practically oozing raw torment, presumably from the Cruciatus. Looks like the girl blocked it with a levitated rock."

Albus smiled. "Young Miss Potter is quite resourceful, it seems."

The Unspeakable nodded. "There are also stranger results. The man's neck seems to be crushed, though whether physically or magically we cannot tell. There are also lingering traces of possession over his body, specifically the back of his head."

Albus frowned in response. Perhaps he would have to Obliviate the young man, after all. The people must not be allowed to know that he'd let Voldemort teach their children for an entire year. "What kind of possession do you believe it was?"

The young man seemed thoughtful. "Again, it is unclear due to excess energies.. Some Infernal method was used to kill him, and the body is swathed in Infernal energies. Though I'd guess it was demonic. Probably."

Albus hummed. "It could also be Vampiric. Quirinus recently visited Albania and had an unhealthy amount of fear of Vampires ever since." The Unspeakable looked at him flatly and raised an eyebrow. He might as well have said 'bullshit' loudly.

"A huge amount of burnt garlic was also found in his turban, sir. I think it would be all but impossible for him to be possessed by a Vampire."

Albus smiled again. "My dear boy, you are quoting silly muggle myths to me. Vampires detest garlic only because of its smell, which is amplified by their preternatural senses. It doesn't really injure them. In fact, I know from personal experience that Vampires hate dungbombs even more."

The young man shook his head wearily at Albus' antics. "Very well, sir, though let us return to the main topic of discussion. I've successfully identified the infernal energies clinging to late Mr. Quirrell."

Albus nodded interestedly. This was the reason why he'd summoned the man in the first place. While he could very well detect and nullify those energies, he lacked a true, in-depth knowledge of them.

The Unspeakable opened his suitcase and took out a paper covered in yellow squiggles. "There is a 67% match to Solar entity of some kind. Probably Apollo or Surya." Here he looked grim. "Lingering traces of a previously unknown entity composed of malice, hatred, and lunacy have also been found, and despite my best efforts, I cannot find the origin of this being. It is almost... as if..."

Uh-oh. Albus internally winced. "As if?"

"Nothing, Headmaster. Perhaps it was formed due to a Muggle cult or something. Somebody like that Lovecraft must be its source." Lovecraft, as the Wizarding world knew him, was a crazed Squib who spun fantastically idiotic tales. In recent years, his popularity had grown among the Muggle world, giving his idiotic creatures a weak life on the other side of the Veil. Albus wondered what Tom would think at being compared to one of those ridiculous abominations, and smiled mentally.

"But that does beg the question, Headmaster. How did the legendary wards of Hogwarts fail to recognize such a threat?"

That... was a terribly awkward question. The school was far less warded than what the people believed. Why, Rubeus had hatched an Acromantula within the castle, and what few dark artifacts of the students brought always remained undetected. Not to mention the Gorgon or something that the bastard Slytherin had hidden somewhere in the castle.

Albus grimaced. "The school is not as extensively warded despite public belief. Anti-Apparition, Anti-Portkey, Muggle repelling, and a few Protego Horribilis, Procul-Occuli, and that's it. True, the belief has caused them to grow far stronger over the centuries, but that doesn't mean that they are all-powerful. Or interested in destroying darker threats."

What he said was, again, not entirely true. There were indeed many other enchantments imbued on the castle, and a nexus to control them existed on the seventh floor. But he was certainly not going to give away that piece of information.

"Also, you should know that the nature of the Forbidden forest makes it rather difficult to maintain wards on it. Which is why the whole incident escaped my notice."

The Unspeakable was very surprised at this revelation. Like all British Wizards, he too had been raised with the belief that the Hogwarts wards were unbreakable and indestructible, and would protect the children within from all sorts dangers. He blinked for a few seconds, and opened his mouth. But before he could speak, a green light blinked from one of Albus' viewers. He waved his wand over it to see a (somewhat) familiar girl blinking her eyes blearily and being hugged by her brother.

"I'm sorry to disrupt our conversation, but it seems I have other appointments." Albus said, banishing the image with a flick.

"Indeed." The Unspeakable stood alongside him. "Headmaster, I wish to test the girl, in case she has any infernal contact or such."

Albus frowned at his audacious request. Though he would also admit that two pairs of eyes were always better than his alone, in case he missed something. "Very well, then." He offered out his arm. "Although Hogwarts may have an Anti-Apparition ward, certain privileges are awarded to the Headmaster."

The Unspeakable blinked, and grabbed onto the arm held out to him.


End file.
